


Your Boyfriend Tried to Kill Me ...Again

by LuminescentLullaby



Series: Semi-Domestic Fluffiness [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Unofficial Sequel, fluff-ish, kind of, shhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 09:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2223183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminescentLullaby/pseuds/LuminescentLullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has no desire to learn about technology, Lucifer has a fascination for using it to make death threats, Sam has created a monster, Dean is sick of everyone's shit, Cas only wants to bang, and Adam's just along for the ride of the chaos that is his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Boyfriend Tried to Kill Me ...Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CannibalHolocaust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalHolocaust/gifts).



> So, this is a pseudo-sequel to _Whipped Cream on Your Illusion of Free Will?_ , meaning that it's set in the same 'verse, however there is literally no mention whatsoever of the events of WCoYIoFW. Like, at all. Feel free to read as a stand-alone, because they're hardly even a series.
> 
> Also, you can thank the lovely CannibalHolocaust for twisting my arm and making me write more.

Michael knew he wasn't the most technologically savvy being in existence by any means, or even the most technologically savvy angel in existence. He knew this, he was fine with this, and he had ceased to let this fact bother him. Besides, if he needed anything done technologically, he would just call Adam. It was a fairly simple solution, and he had no issue with it.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed insistent on learning _everything_ when it came to the devices his brother generally found infernal and tedious- with the exception of the microwave, which fascinated the older archangel and irritated the younger. Whenever Sam would do something on his laptop, Lucifer would be right behind him, peering over his shoulder and blinking lazily, almost like a cat as he studied it, trying his best to seem apathetic. Sam, however, who knew the Devil inside and out in more ways than one, could easily tell that this was a façade, and that his real emotions were easy to find if one only knew where to look.

Generally, all it took was one look in the archangel’s eyes to confirm that the spark of curiosity was there, at which point Sam would make his standard offer, telling Lucifer to pull up a chair and Sam would teach him. And, naturally, Lucifer would act like he really couldn’t care less, but eventually he would give in and sit down, paying rapt attention to each movement of the human’s hands on the keyboard.

“What does that button do?” Lucifer asked curiously, by that point having perched himself on the arm of Sam’s chair, which was more than big enough for two people to sit in, just not when one of them was the size of Sam Winchester. His finger was pointing at a key on the left-hand column, head cocked to the side curiously in a gesture it seemed all angels shared.

Sam gave a fond sort of sigh and rolled his eyes in mostly-feigned exasperation, shaking his head a bit. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he laughed, though he hurried to answer the Devil’s question before he had a chance to comment upon that statement. “It’s the caps lock, Luce. It makes everything capitalized once you push it. You push it again to turn it off.”

Lucifer’s brows drew together as he considered this explanation, seeming somewhat puzzled as to what use something like that could possibly serve. “But why? Wouldn’t that be like type-yelling?” Lazily, he began tracing his fingertip in circles around the denim covering his mate’s knee, the fabric faded and worn from being washed over and over again in sub-par detergent. Public Laundromats weren't exactly renowned for their quality, after all, and gentle detergents weren’t exactly renowned for their ability to remove monster blood from clothing.

“Well, yeah, kind of. But sometimes you need to use it,” Sam tried to explain, squirming and shifting in his seat a bit as Lucifer’s touch became more tickling than anything else. “Like if you have to type something that’s written like that. Acronyms, for one.” To prove his point, he clicked on the address bar at the top of the web page he was on and tapped the caps lock, then proceeding to type out ‘FBI’. “See? All of the letters are capital, so it’s kind of silly to have to hit shift for every single one.”

Lucifer gave an idle little hum in agreement, the sound resonating like the purr of a cat in the back of his throat. “Can I try it? But I want to do it myself; no helping me.” When Sam just gave an encouraging smile and placed the computer in Lucifer’s lap, his brows drew together a tiny bit, now focused entirely on his task. After a few moments of searching for the proper keys, he grinned satisfactorily and typed out his message.

“So, what did you write?” Sam asked curiously, trying to peer around Lucifer to peek at the screen, though the archangel was having none of that. He disappeared with a flutter of wings- and the laptop- and Sam could only wonder about the monster he’d unwittingly created.

******

It wasn’t until a few days later (four, to be pedantic, however Michael was the only one amongst them who was really that much of a pedant) that Sam learned of the fruits his teachings bore. Well, actually, it was Dean who learned of them first, but once again, that was a nuance.

(For obvious reasons, Dean was generally the target of the archangels’ boredom and irritation, as they couldn’t really do anything to each other’s mates without inciting another Apocalypse, and Castiel was their little brother. So, naturally, they picked on Dean.)

“ _Sam! Your goddamn boyfriend is trying to kill me again!_ ” The eldest Winchester screeched- no, sorry, Dean Winchester does not ‘ _screech_ ’, thank you very much- from the kitchen, although to be fair, this statement really wasn’t anything new. And, as usual, everyone came running. Sam because he’d been summoned by his idiot brother, Castiel to defend his mate if necessary, Lucifer to beam with smug pride at his handiwork, Michael to scold his brother for pestering the human, and Adam simply to watch the train wreck that was his life. Admittedly, it was quite entertaining.

“It’s ‘God damned’, actually. Get your vocabulary straight,” the Devil replied haughtily, leaning against the doorframe and smirking. “And if I was _trying_ to kill you, you would not be alive to be complaining about it. You complain a lot.”

“Luce,” Sam groaned in exasperation, far too used to this sort of petty fight between his angel and brother. “What was it this time?” He had learned by that point not to phrase the question as ‘what did you do?’, as that more often than not ended up with Lucifer moody and upset, thinking that Sam was accusing him or judging him.

“He’s leaving death threats everywhere!” Dean snapped grumpily, looking back and forth between Sam and Castiel, as if hoping the seraph would back him up on this matter. He rarely did, of course, but you can’t blame a guy for trying, after all. “Look at this!”

With a rather overly-dramatic flourish- overly-dramatic in the sense that it made him look like a pouty toddler throwing a tantrum- Dean thrust out a sheet of paper, which Sam merely accepted with a dejected sigh. The page was filled from margin to margin with the same phrase over again, in all caps.

**HAVE YOU LEARNED TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN? HAVE YOU LEARNED TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN? HAVE YOU LEARNED TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN? HAVE YOU LEARNED TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN?**

Sam made an unimpressed sort of sound, balling the paper up in his large hands before tossing it at Lucifer, hitting him in the side of the head. Much to Sam’s satisfaction, the Devil gave an indignant yelp, rubbing the- entirely imagined, as it would take an archangel blade or perhaps maybe being crushed by a meteor to actually damage him- injury.

“That was just rude,” Lucifer commented in a snippy tone, toeing the wad of paper with disinterest. “I was only having a little fun, _dear._ ” At the pet name, Sam rolled his eyes, making it obvious to everyone that he was almost certainly forcing Lucifer to sleep on the couch that night.

“Threatening to murder my brother isn’t funny, Luce. We’ve been over this,” the human explained, scrubbing his face with the palm of his hand. “Just- don’t do it again, okay?” He waited through the reluctant groan and dramatic huff for Lucifer to nod, then turning to trudge back to his bedroom. He didn’t get paid enough for this crap.

Castiel was the next to leave, dragging Dean along by his hand for reasons everyone else in the room chose not to think about. They all knew he was- _ahem_ \- ‘placating his human’, as he had put it before, and none of them wanted to know what _exactly_ those words meant.

This left just Lucifer, Michael, and Adam in the kitchen, and Michael clearly had something on his mind. He shifted around awkwardly for a moment as he debated whether or not to ask whatever it was he was thinking about, dark brows drawn together deeply in an expression Adam had labelled ‘the thinky face’- slightly furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, the edge of his bottom lip caught between his teeth to worry at as he thought.

“Oh, for Dad’s sakes, Mike! Spit it out!” Lucifer demanded after they had waited for a solid minute and Michael had still made no more move to speak his mind. After Michael recovered, which took a minute, as being snapped out of his little reveries often did, a light dusting of pink crossed his cheeks, having learned from Adam when it was appropriate to be embarrassed.

“I was just thinking that perhaps I ought to learn to use the computer…” Michael explained sheepishly, giving an awkward little shrug. He frowned a bit when both Adam and Lucifer burst into laughter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t see why this is amusing to the two of you. It is simply a statement of fact; there are times where the two of you are busy and I need help with something. It seems a logical move to educate myself about technology.”

After calming himself down a bit, Adam shook his head, giving the archangel’s cheek a condescending little pat. Anyone else would have been smote on the spot. “Mike, sweetie, you know what? I think it’s just best if you just come ask us. We’ll never be too busy to help you, I promise.”

Of course, before Michael had the chance to be properly placated by this answer, Lucifer just _had_ to chime in. “Actually, he’s just afraid you’ll break his computer with your clumsy tendencies and knack for destroying entire continents with a single fell swoop.” The Devil gave a little humph and raised a brow at his brother, as if daring Michael to say he was wrong. Instead, the older angel just looked down at his feet and frowned.

“Oh,” he stated simply, not saying anything else for a long moment. “I- apologize. I didn’t realize I broke everything…” He flexed his metaphysical wings out and prepared to fly off, though Adam caught him by the shoulder before he could. Even if the human couldn’t actually see his wings, he knew Michael well enough to know what he looked like right before he was about to take off and brood in solitude. 

"Uh-uh. Nope. You’re staying right here, mister. And Lucifer’s going to apologize for saying that, isn’t he?” With that, the human threw a pointed glare over at Satan himself, and Lucifer told himself it was because he had upset Michael that he was complying, not because he was scared of the little human. But to be fair, he _was_ part Winchester.

“Sorry, Micha…” Lucifer sighed, moving a little closer to his brother and pulling a slightly rueful smile. “What can I say? As your little brother, it is my obligatory duty to make fun of you every now and then. Old habits die hard. Are we good now?”

Michael smiled slightly as well, nodding a bit and relaxing his posture from its usual drawn-up self. “Yes, we are good, Luca,” he replied softly, humming a bit and murmuring something in Enochian that made his brother grin wickedly.

“Oh, and they say _I’m_ the evil one! That’s positively dastardly!” Lucifer exclaimed, expression never falling as he slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him away from Adam. “I’m in.”

“Hang on, what?” Adam asked in confusion, feeling thoroughly left out from whatever it was the two were planning. “Guys, what’s going on? Mike?”

“Don’t worry about it, Adam. Everything will be fine,” Michael placated, giving his mate a tiny, reserved smile. “However, Lucifer and I will return shortly. We need to acquire vast quantities of blueberries, a deck of playing cards, approximately thirty meters of yarn, and an alpaca.”

“An _alpaca_?!”

“Actually, brother, I was thinking perhaps a llama would better suit our needs.”

“A llama? Really? But they’re so… unsociable. Alpacas are much friendlier.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll get an alpaca _just this once,_ Michael _._ But next time, we’re getting a llama.”

“Deal.”


End file.
